


Mirror, mirror

by Marveljunkie



Series: Write Me [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Caring Sam, Developing Relationship, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Self-Harm, kinda graphic, may trigger, s10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-15 01:22:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marveljunkie/pseuds/Marveljunkie
Summary: Dean hates mirrors. It seems they hate him back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Something a little longer and more substantial for anyone who might be reading.

Dean stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. God, he looks horrible. Eyes full of self loathing and red rimmed, complete with dark bags under them, he's not sure how Sammy hasn't noticed. But he has been busy -- Garth called for help in research and Sam's been buried in books the past two days. 

Dean wishes he was better at research, wishes he could be there in the library with Sam and feel useful, not like he's underfoot and in the way. He shakes his head with a heavy sigh and reaches into the bathroom cabinet. 

He pulls out the straight razor and strips his shirt off. Stomach is the best place for this. Sam almost never touches him there, and it's easy enough to keep his back to Sam when he's shirtless. 

Dean brings up the razor and starts. Quick, efficient, he makes a row of shallow cuts. He grits his teeth against the sting, pausing to wipe away the blood. 

He always fails Sam. He's not helpful. He doesn't know anything beyond hunting. Stupid. Dumb. Nothing. Unimportant. 

Dean gets so lost in his head that Sam knocking on the door startles him and the razor sinks in deeper than he intended, making him gasp sharply. 

"Hey, just wanted to-" Sam stops at the sharp noise Dean makes as he instinctively yanks the razor free. "Dean? Are you okay?" 

Dean bites his lip hard, trying not to panic. He applies pressure to the wound with a clean towel from under the sink. Fuck, he needs to answer Sam. "Fine." He manages. "I'm fine. What did you need?" 

Sam frowns. Dean sounds anything but fine. He bites his lip and reaches for the door knob. "Can I see you?" 

Dean sighs and gingerly shifts the towel to cover his stomach before cracking the door open and sticking his head out. "What?" It comes out sharper than he meant, making Sam wince. 

"Woah, chill. I just wanted to know if you wanted anything to eat. I didn't see you in the library." Sam tries to scan Dean as subtly as possible. 

Dean shrugs, attempting for casual. "Sorry, you know I can't research for shit. Not hungry, either. Thanks for asking." He makes to close the door but Sam's palm stops it. 

"Dean." He says, trying to keep his breathing even and his voice neutral. "Why are you bleeding?" 

Dean's eyes widen and he curses mentally. Shoulda known Sam would catch him. "I'm not!" He says, too quickly. "Its just a stained towel. I'm fine."

Sam very patiently does not roll his eyes. "Dean," he says gently. "You relocate all the stained towels to the garage. You never let then into the bathrooms." 

Shit. That's right. Before he can think of another good excuse, Sam's big hand is pushing the door open and he comes in. 

Dean clutches the towel to him with wide eyes, almost scared of Sam. He backs up a little and bites his lip. 

"Easy." Sam grits his teeth when he sees the bloodstained razor on the sink and tries to not get upset. "Easy, Dean. Let me see." He reaches out and wraps a gentle arm around Dean's waist, pulling him in and taking the towel from his grasp. Dean let's him, turning his head away in shame and defeat. 

Sam bites his lip and guides Dean to sit on the toilet, crouching down in front of him to examine the cuts. "Not too bad." He murmurs. "Mostly superficial, except this one." He nods toward the deep cut. "I startled you, didn't I." 

Sam sighs at Dean's lack of response and avoidance of his gaze and reaches under the sink for the first aid supplies. He gets Dean to keep pressure on the one cut, which is still bleeding sluggishly, and lightly bandages the other cuts.

Then Sam comes back to this one. He bites his lip. Probably ought to have stitches. He grabs the supplies and then stands up. "Gotta have some stitches." He says softly. "Cmon. It'll be easier in bed." 

Dean let's Sam tug him to his feet and doesn't resist the arm around his shoulders as Sam leads him to his room. The same arm helps him lie down on his back, spreading a clean towel under him. Sam does the stitches and bandaging efficiently. 

When Sam stands, Dean's hand reaches out and clamps around his wrist without his permission. At Sam's questioning look, Dean licks his lips and murmurs, "Stay. Please." He adds after a pause. 

Sam nods and kicks off his shoes, laying down next to Dean. "Want anything for the pain?"

Dean shakes his head. 

"Ready to tell me what happened?" Sam prods carefully. 

Silence. Sam almost thinks Dean isn't gonna speak but then.

"I get lost in my head, sometimes." Dean says quietly. "This usually helps."

Sam scoots a little closer and after a moment of hesitation, leans in a kisses Dean's forehead. Usually Dean doesn't accept such forward displays of affection but today he leans into it, eyes closing. 

"Try and come to me, next time?" He suggests softly. "Doesn't matter what's going on, I always have time for you, De." 

Dean bites his lip. "I...I can try." 

Sam nods. "Okay, De. Okay." He scoots closer, til their legs are pressed together. 

Dean welcomes the soft touch and does his best to move closer to Sam. Maybe he doesn't look so bad. He hopes tomorrow the mirror won't feel so harsh.


End file.
